


Expendable

by nodere



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: An exploration of thought process, Canon Compliant, Kuron is Shiro (Voltron)'s Clone, Other, POV Second Person, Spoilers, s4e6, sort of but if you haven't watched it yet don't read this okay?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 11:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12386745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nodere/pseuds/nodere
Summary: Keith reconciles with his decision.





	Expendable

**Author's Note:**

> I’m assuming two things: that the current Shiro is a clone, and Keith has figured it out. I personally believe the former to be true and the latter to be false.
> 
> Super short, but I had to get it out. That scene, you know the one, has been bothering me all day. Please forgive it its shortcomings, I wrote it on my lunch break.
> 
>  
> 
> "I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad;  
> The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had."  
> Roland Orzabal, Tears for Fears - Mad World

_“In war, we have to make hard choices.”_

Dying in space is a return to the primordial darkness of the womb, the origin of life and the mechanism of creation. Out here, there are no seasons, no sunrise, no sunset to chase into the night. What you do every day is a stern reminder that the vacuum in which you hide is the figurative one within the walls of your own making and not the literal expanse beyond the thin hull of your craft.

Air catches fast in your windpipe. You swallow down the hard lump wondering when you forgot how to breathe.

Didn't you say you wouldn't cry?

Those aren't tears trailing down your jaw from your temples and dripping off your chin to splash in tiny puddles on the console. Your hair is plastered to the nape of your neck and your forehead. Admit it, that unpleasant stench wasn't leftover from the previous pilot of this airship; it's fear, and you're scared.

It’s not like you left them in the lurch. Every position on that team was filled except the one you could not. That part was not your fault. You tried your best with what you’d been given. Every misstep was further confirmation that the Black Lion was never meant for you, and she was wrong to have ever forced you to try. By removing yourself from the equation, you singlehandedly forced Shiro back into one of the few things that gave him meaning. Even if that’s not really him, the cold disappointment cuts you like a knife. Slide it in between the third and fourth ribs, twist. Perhaps in time, he’ll understand why you did what you felt you had to.

Your fingers fly across the panel, engaging the boosters and locking onto the target. You push the steering forward, easing the small fighter into position as you accelerate full throttle.

Only for so long can you continue to delude yourself into believing that man is he. For a facsimile, he is nearly perfect, his smile easy, his tactician’s sense sound. He wears the gleaming white carapace like a second skin assuming his role and playing his part, a cog in the rusted guts of this immaculate machine. He brings the lion to life with a firm, steady hand, and once you saw it accept him, you knew you no longer had a place in that chair. Despite it all and everything he’d said, you were never meant to fill his shoes. The very idea of your leadership leaves a sour tang upon your tongue, you, the firebrand, the one who is always thinking of himself before anybody else. Perhaps there’s some truth to that after all. Dare yourself to pretend you’re not running away from your problems. It’s about time you stop being delusional.

Reaching up, you click off the radio. Their voices, his voice, is something you cannot bear to hear right now.

When you look upon this man, this replacement, you only see the husk of the person you knew. He feels, he thinks, he probably even has a soul, and you have no reason to deny his claim to personhood.

Yet still, no secrets hide within his limitless eyes. The brevity of his tone and the brashness of his words betray him. He folds his arms across his chest when he speaks to you. When he hugged you goodbye, you put that performative smile on your face and pretended it was the Shiro you knew, who had never held you at arm's length like he was afraid to touch you.

Where is the wisdom that made him your mentor? Where is the empathy that made him your friend? Where is the heart that he gave of himself?

Therein lies the problem. He thinks he is your Shiro, and you lack the courage to tell him otherwise.

It is even likely true that he cares for you.

_As many times as it takes._

Repeating the phrase, you turn it around and examine it. If you're honest with yourself, you know the chances of Shiro still being out there somewhere are slim to none and that you gave up when "he" returned because you could pretend you hadn't failed. The guilt of this admission drags you like a plow through manure.

He'd given you so much, and you couldn't even save him. Without him, you have nothing and no purpose.

Stay the course.

You suppose it’s better this way. It’s how you’ve always coped. Leave before anyone can reject you because to love and have lost hurts more than to never have been loved at all.

Your heart skips a beat in your chest. There is still time to eject yourself from this crash course with destiny, but if you’re honest with yourself, you’re ok with that. Even if it’s not really Shiro, that’s your team out there. They need you, and if you can do just one thing for them, you have to do it. There is no other way.

The honeycomb paneling of the shield flashes iridescent before you, like the heat haze of a desert mirage. Approaching quickly, you steel yourself for the inevitable, clenching your teeth tight and squeezing your eyes shut.

For one fleeting moment, you wish all of this were a bad dream. There isn't a single memory flashing before you that doesn't involve _him_ , and the knowledge comforts you with the confirmation that you are nothing alone.

You are no one, and that is how it should be. Expendable. Nobody is going to come after you; that’s not how it works. You don't want them to anyway.

No one needs to know.


End file.
